Heart of Snow
by Xerxies19
Summary: Legault tells Heath that he loves him, but Heath doesn't understand it. When Legault almost dies to protect him, he learns that he doesn't want to live without the strange thief. LegaultxHeath, based partially on A support. Has been fixed.


-1**A/N: To those of you who have read this story before, it was unfinished due to me forgetting to save part of it. If it seemed to drop off randomly, it did. I forgot this fact due to mild retardation at 5 in the morning. My bad. The missing part has been retyped and I hope it will make more sense this time. Gomen!**

"_It's a little thing called love."_

Heath couldn't get those words out of his head, uttered by a lavender haired thief by the name of Legault a.k.a. Hurricane. The man had claimed to be joking, but the wyvern lord wasn't that gullible. He leaned against Hyperion, the wyvern whistling soothingly.

"Hyperion, what do I do?"

The dragon-kin rumbled, then rubbed his head on Heath's. _Do what you feel is right. _Heath put his head in his hand, the other holding an Iron Lance, which he never was without.

"Something troubling you?"

Heath jumped and pointed the weapon in the direction of the voice. He looked up to find the tip at Blade's throat, the red-eyed man studying him calmly. Heath sighed in relief, he was always jumpy, being a deserter from the most powerful nation in the world would tend to do that to a person.

"Legault." Blade said, answering his own question.

Heath's pearly-grey eyes widened and he stared at the man, wondering how he always knew everything. Blade sat next to him in the snow of Bern. They were staying the day here on the way to the Shrine of Seals, the weather ahead too bad to attempt a crossing.

"He said, that he…loves me."

"Mm, and you?"

"I don't know! He's so strange! Why would he fall in love with someone who could end up getting him killed?" Heath burst.

"You do realize he willingly joined a troupe of people lead by a madman and hunted by the most powerful organization in the entire world, the leader of which is stronger than anything this world has seen since the dragons, right?"

Heath had to wonder that Blade referred to himself as a madman.

"But…That's different. He can leave whenever he wants. If he loves me, it usually means you want to spend the rest of your life with that person."

"Heath, you really don't get love. It doesn't follow the rules of logic. He doesn't care if being with you could get him killed, he's going to love you anyways, for who you are. Love transcends sense and self-preservation. It's not a question of whether it's smart to love you, it's whether you love him."

Heath fell silent in brooding. Blade left, wisdom imparted. Heath decided to go see Nino, to learn about loving assassins.

"Heath, what's wrong? You look like something's on your mind."

He looked at the adorable, sweet girl who asked him, and couldn't help but crack a rare smile.

"Um, I have a personal question."

"Go ahead," the green haired sage prodded.

"How can you tell if you're in love with someone?"

She smiled, making the tent she shared with Jaffar a little brighter.

"You feel like you can't live without them. The thought of them dying is more than you can bear."

Heath absorbed the information for later pondering. He thanked her and left, returning to his place at Hyperion's feet. Whilst in thought, he failed to notice the object of his paranoia gliding in. His head jolted up when three wyvern riders, one of which he recognized from his days as a soldier in Bern's army, landed near him.

"You traitor! How dare you desert Bern and return to its soil! We've been ordered not to intervene in your travel, but this is a special case. I'm sure they'll thank me later," a brown haired man, apparently the leader, said.

Heath knew him, but couldn't remember his name. It wasn't particularly important considering he was throwing a Spear at him, and with boots deep in snow he wouldn't have time to avoid the deadly weapon. He braced himself for the blow when a black flash darted out in front of him. The Spear buried itself in the swirl's middle, and it collapsed backwards, into Heath. Catching it, he realized, as his heart fell into his shoes, that it was Legault.

The assassin was still breathing but wouldn't be for very longer if the others were allowed to attack. Mounting Hyperion, he pulled the Silver Lance out of the saddle and impaled the leader as his beloved wyvern swooped at the enemy. Still enraged, he turned to the one at his right and the last thing going through the man's head was his lance tip. The left one tried to escape, but Hyperion lunged into the air with a powerful sweep of his bat-like wings and Heath twirled the lance once before embedding it to his hand in the man's chest.

Pulling the blood-slicked shaft out, his wyvern responded to his feelings rather than commands and landed next to the bleeding assassin who'd saved his life. He could see Nino sprinting through the snow with a Heal Staff, Jaffar at her side. He knelt down next to his fallen comrade, taking the man's shoulders in his arms. His breathing was faint and blood was running out of his mouth, the lance in his stomach area. He clutched his head to his chest, suddenly horrified at the thought of losing the off-beat man.

Nino slid to a stop beside them, blue eyes wide with fear. Jaffar wrapped skilled fingers around the shaft of the throwing weapon, pulling it out without doing any further damage. Legault cried out in pain, blood issuing from the wound. Nino gulped and focused all her power on the Heal Staff, Pent on the hill using his Physic as well. Combined the two managed to completely close the gaping wound.

"Uncle Legault, are you okay?" Nino said, her voice shaking in her anxiety.

"Fine, thanks to you," he coughed, ice-blue eyes opening.

"Rest," Jaffar ordered.

"Heath, take him to your tent. Make sure he stays warm and gets as much sleep as he can," Blade added.

Not bothering to wonder how the tactician suddenly appeared, Heath nodded numbly and lifted the lighter man in his arms. He retreated to their shared tent. Hyperion whistled, sharing his rider's stress. He put his own bedroll under Legault's for extra insulation and once the thief turned assassin was in the bed he piled his own blankets on top of the other's.

Even so, Legault was still shivering from cold. The blood loss had affected his body's homeostasis. Out of things to do except one, Heath started undoing the clasps on his black armor.

"What are you doing?" Legault asked weakly.

Heath didn't answer as he finished stripping himself of the metal carapace. He lifted the corner of the blankets nearest him and laid down next to Legault. Tugging them tightly around him, he pulled the freezing man into his arms. Legault wrapped his arms around him, completing the embrace.

"Are you warm enough?"

Legault nodded. Heath smiled at his success.

"Thank you for saving me."

"It was no big deal," Legault returned, trying to dismiss it as nothing.

"It was for me."

One icy eye met his piercingly. Not finding an answer, Legault closed it and pressed his head further into the wyvern lord's warm chest.

"Goodnight, Heath."

"Sleep well, Legault."

The silent killer nodded off, the speed with which he did it increased by his weak state. Left in silence, Heath remembered what Nino said. He felt like he would die when he had recognized Legault as being his savior. The thought of losing the strange man had made him feel empty. So, did that mean that he was in love? He had to admit, he liked being so close to the lavender haired man.

Heath awoke to Nino at the tent flap. She asked if she could come in to check on the previously injured man to make sure he was okay. Heath said she could, not caring about the compromising position he was in.

"Good, looks like you kept him warm," she said as she pulled the blankets back to get a better look at his belly.

He eased away from the other to allow her investigation. She checked his pulse, one finger to his wrist and one to her own jugular. Satisfied, she lifted his shirt and prodded the area where the entry wound had been.

"He really loves you, you know. I've never seen him like this before."

Heath's sleepy eyes shot open, she was perceptive.

"So, do you love him back?"

"I think…I do. When he took the blow for me, I felt like the ground had dropped out from under me. I wanted to die."

"I felt the same way when Jaffar told me to escape the manse while he distracted Urusula and Damian. I felt like I would rather die than lose him."

She pulled the man's shirt back down and smiled another one of her brilliant grins.

"I'm glad you like him back, because if you didn't and you hurt him, I'd have Jaffar take care of you. Legault is a very nice uncle, and a good person. He was part of the original Black Fang, before Sonia ruined it. You better make him happy," she warned good-naturedly.

Even while dealing death threats, the child was absolutely adorable. She left as quickly as she came, Jaffar silent on her heels.

"Is what you said true?" Legault's voice asked.

Heath jumped visibly and blushed. Embarrassed that the assassin had overheard, he nodded sheepishly. The next thing he knew, Legault's tongue was slipping into his mouth. And he was enjoying it. He pressed his own tongue against the other's in a battle for dominance. Legault won, mostly because Heath gave up and let him have his way. The scarred man finally pulled away, flushed and out of breath.

"So, now do you understand?" The thief asked.

"Yes."

"Good, now that that's over with, I have a few other things to teach you," Legault purred, hand traveling up Heath's shirt.

The wyvern lord proved to be an excellent student, with the proper mentor.


End file.
